is the worst month.

I hate it.

Lots of my family feel the same way.

I really try my best, for the sake of my littles. But it gets me.

I used to get so excited for Halloween but I’ll probably send my kids out with their friends and turn my lights off. I hand made a couple of the costumes the kids wore when they were toddlers. Trick or treating with them all over our neighborhood. Stopping at both of their grandparents houses to take pictures and an extra handful or two of candy. Deciding how many layers everyone needed to wear, depending on the weather that year. Mapping out how far to get from the house before we head back.

And then 3 years ago we had a funeral the day before Halloween. What kind of sick joke is that? I was so numb. We picked a Saturday. Even after filling out all of the info for the program and the obituary, it wasn’t until the day of the funeral that I realized that my #30 was put to rest on the 30th of Oct.

Bittersweet.

We are 1 week into the month and I’ve already had several conversations with my kids about what we’ll do to honor big brother this month. What we want his death date to look like this year. Planning it out, keeps the anxiety low. We like to write him letters around big milestones. If they let me share them this year, I will. I suspect little sis would love the idea and that little bro will keep his private. That’s kind of been the pattern of their grieving over the last 3 years. We each do it very differently.

I fully expect little sis to get triggered at school again and cry. I hope she doesn’t but I’ve prepared myself by talking to the school counselor. Her teacher is also really amazing and had Beck in his class 8 years ago. So he’s fully aware of how this week feels for us. And with lil bro now attending the school Beck was going to when he passed, I know he has lots of staff support there. It’s the craziest thing. We have so much support and so many lovely people around us, yet I want to bubble wrap them. They’ve been through enough.

But they are resilient. And probably most importantly, extremely emotionally intelligent. It’s not lost on me that the reason they are ahead in that area, is because of all that they have lost. The conversations I have with my 8 and 11 year old probably don’t look like a lot of conversations kids that age are having with their mom.

Which reminds me, the Timehop app can be a blessing and a bitch. This month A LOT of both. Last week I was reminded of a convo I had with Beck. I had screenshotted it because it was funny. I was asking what time he’d be home from practice and then I had texted him that I got him a Blizzard from DQ. His reply was “hell ya mom” and I said “excuse me!” and I received “*heck, I meant heck hahaha”. Always knew how to make me laugh.

Him and I had a lot of bits and one of them revolved around DQ. I’d get everyone’s order and then as I was leaving, I’d look at Beck and say, “but no DQ for you!” and he’d flip me off with his ring finger. When I got back home, he’d “tell on me” for not getting his cookie dough and Oreo blizzard, until it was set in front of him like a king.

That. Kid.

I could talk about him for days. I think it helps. Especially this month. Greif tip 37845: If you don’t know what to say to someone grieving a loss, talk about their person. We like to hear their name. We love to hear stories about them. Does it sometimes end in crying, sure! But that’s okay. October 22nd I’ll usually get a bunch of texts. My favorite ones have stories included. Those are special. Keeps his memory alive.

I really miss him. Like really really. Tonight, Madds was working on some homework and said he lost his pencil case for school and has no clue where it went. I’ve got an entire craft closet full of anything he needs to restock. But I asked if he wanted Beck’s. The way his face LIT UP. I wasn’t sure whether to offer, because it feels like anything he’s touched is sacred. I am so glad I asked. He walked with me down to the basement where I keep Becks things and we grabbed his 8th grade backpack. I have it memorized. I pretended like I didn’t. We brought it up and went through it. I could see the magic in his eyes as he looked through his middle school agenda, his sketch book. They have similar handwriting. Both boys for some reason (and I cannot figure it out) have several letters they write incorrectly. They look like they should, but the way they form them is backwards. A random quirk they share. I handed Madds the pencil case and he was stoked. I could see his eyes darting and studying the pens his big brother used. He might not remember this moment in 20 years, but I will.

October still sucks. There are a million things I have to be grateful for. And I am. But October still gets a big middle finger.